


Longing

by Soupernabturel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hickies, Longing, Love Bites, M/M, One shot of Castiel's views of Dean, Rough Kissing, Season/Series 10, meta-ish, sort of poetic, the mark of cain, the righteous man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:36:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3374903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a childish thought, to think that a lowly Angel of the lord could override the Mark of the Wanderer, but it doesn’t stop Castiel from trying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longing

Dean is muddy and bleeding when Castiel kisses him.

 

They fall against the Impala, monster guts, grime and blood smearing against the glossy chrome. The kiss is something edging on anger, all teeth and desperate tongues- roaming hands and muffled cries. The Mark on Dean’s arm pulses like a second heart beat almost burning through his sleeve.

 

Dean is just as bruised as Castiel is, perhaps even more so. His ribs are cracked and Castiel isn’t sure if the wetness on his cheeks is Dean’s tears or his own but they add a saltiness to the kisses so raw that it makes Castiel  _thirst_. He doesn’t know whether they are tears of relief or sadness, but can’t fathom why they can’t be both. No one is dying, there is no end of the world looming above them, but the same burn in Castiel’s limbs he has gotten so many times before disaster occurred is curling through his limbs now, as though this, here and now truly was the end.

 

Cain said the Mark was given to him from Lucifer, and Castiel has never understood his brothers stain more upon Dean Winchesters soul more than now. The Mark  _burns_ , the Mark  _wants (longs)_. And maybe that’s what’s finally pushed Dean over the edge now. The wanting ( _longing always longing_ ) and the burning as bright as Lucifer’s own grace, blotting out the light of Dean’s soul honing it in to a single point of desire that Castiel had just stepped in front of.

 

Blood oozes from the cut on Castiel’s forehead, but it comes second to the warmth of Dean’s lips as they kiss with frantic urgency. Dean’s heart is pounding against Castiel’s broken ribs which makes him swallow a quiet painful moan.

 

Sometimes Castiel finds himself disbelieving that Dean was once the Righteous man, Michael’s sword, his true vessel. There must have been some mistake in the grand plan. Dean couldn’t have possibly been any of those things because he never was any of them, not even in the slightest. He’d rebelled, fought back because he wanted something different ( _longed for some other way_ ). Dean Winchester chose differently-  _he chose this_. All teeth and tongues, and grabbing hands and open shirts. He chose Castiel, and Sam, and family- and in doing so rendered his brilliance to something sinful and base. Something carved out of flesh and bone and just as fragile and brittle as either.

 

Dean Winchester made himself addictive, bewitching in a way that set Castiel’s nerves singing and the stardust that made his grace quivering because Dean was anything  _but_ blameless as the prophets foretold, anything  _but_ honest.

 

Because despite all his good, all of his intentions, Dean chose this- this bruise upon his soul, this seal upon his arm and even now in the quiet of an intimate moment a part of Dean longs ( _wants_ ) for a far more delicious torture.

 

And Castiel would pour everything of himself into Dean if it would sate his desires ( _longing)_  for just one moment.

 

But the Mark of Cain is a hungry thing, ravenous. Lucifer himself had never been one for hunger, seeing the instinct as base, human. Which was why it was the perfect weapon against them, humanities ultimate weakness.

 

Their hunger, their desire, their longing, their  _need_.

 

 _'Cas- buddy I need you.'_ Dean had said once, but longed for a thousand times every day in Purgatory, and a thousand more before.

 

Dean, in Castiel’s eyes, was the epitome of humanity and as such he is always wanting ( _longing_ ).

 

Castiel tugs on Dean’s arm dislodging it from around his waist, effortlessly he exposes the Mark, dark red and angry on Dean’s arm to the open air. He’s methodical and dedicated in his work, bringing the expanse of skin up to his mouth. Dressing it with kitten licks, then something firmer as all the moisture in his mouth is burnt out.

 

It is a childish thought; to think that perhaps Castiel could replace Cain’s (Lucifer’s) Mark with one of his own, sucking droplets of blood up to the surface, leaving teeth marks around the point of bone.

 

But Castiel is anything if not diligent in his worship. He is exact in inflicting a precious torture upon the Mark that plagues Dean’s soul, that keeps Dean writhing and whimpering against him.

 

The Mark that keeps him wanting. 

 

It is a childish thought, to think that a lowly Angel of the lord could override the mark of the Wanderer, but it doesn’t stop Castiel from trying.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [My Tumblr](soupernabturel.tumblr.com)


End file.
